My mother always tells me that I have unrealistic expectations.
How so? Examples of my constant inability to live up to my own [mental] expectations present themselves in all aspects of my life.
Exhibit A - My bedroom decor:
What I want it to look like.
What it actually looks like.
Its times like this where I need to remind myself that my bedroom wont magically transform into an oasis a la Pottery Barn, just because I purchased three of their white shelves.
Exhibit B - My baking:
What I want it to look like in my head.
What it actually looks like.
Maybe I should leave the decorative cakes to Martha Stewart, or Carvel.
The newest victim to join my group of unrealistic expectations is my wardrobe.
Meet the romper. The outfit that is theoretically perfect for the graduation party/ Grandmother 80th birthday bash marathon I have on Sunday. Throw on a theoretical pair of gladiator sandals, maybe some cute theoretical bangles, along with a dark theoretical tan, and, voila, you have yourself a theoretical cute/super trendy/ ultra-wearable outfit. Right?
Here’s to another attempt at yet another unrealistic vision in my head. There will be no pictures to follow if, no, when I fail at recreating this look.
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